


seven wonders and then there's you

by lavender (yestoday)



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, oblivious hwiyoung stressing about Feelings, several swear words, strongly self-indulgent, taeyang's just cool with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 11:52:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12506780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yestoday/pseuds/lavender
Summary: Hwiyoung enjoys kissing Taeyang more than he really should, especially since they’ve never talked about it and it’s become something like a game for them and everything’s a mess.





	seven wonders and then there's you

**Author's Note:**

> i love sf9! and hwitae!! also there's no underage stuff in here i kept it innocent

To Hwiyoung, Taeyang is beautiful in every sense of the word.

He’s beautiful in the early mornings, when they’re being shaken out of bed by the unforgiving calls of the alarm clock and his hair is rumpled and he’s stumbling along the corridor half-asleep trying to get to the living room. He shines onstage, when he’s dancing and singing and giving the camera that look. Taeyang is like an untouchable being, sculpted like Adonis and way too far out of Hwiyoung’s league.

Chanhee laughs his ass off when he catches Hwiyoung staring. “You’re like a clingy little puppy that follows him everywhere,” he’ll snicker, and Hwiyoung will glare at him and mumble a disconcerted “shut up”.

“Youngkyun,” Chanhee puts his hands on his hips, the look on his face saying he means business.

“Don’t call me that,” Hwiyoung replies sharply, swatting at the younger boy.

“Hwiyoung, whatever,” Chanhee rolls his eyes, and Hwiyoung has to fight the urge to smack the little brat. “Why don’t you just tell hyung that you’ve been harbouring all these undying cruel emotions for him?”

The tone is definitely a touch more sarcastic than what Hwiyoung would’ve liked to hear, but he gets the message just fine. “He doesn’t like me that way,” he dismisses the mere thought, because why would Taeyang (gorgeous, beautiful Taeyang) like _Hwiyoung_?

Chanhee downright snorts in derision upon hearing that. “Of course. I’m sure a ton of people like to platonically push each other against the wall and stick their tongues down each others’ throats as friends. Makes sense.”

It doesn’t, not when Chanhee phrases it like that, but Hwiyoung has always followed the school of thought that Chanhee is pure evil, and so he refuses to give himself false hope.

He settles for shoving Chanhee so hard he falls off his chair, and leaves it at that.

* * *

Hwiyoung has never in his eighteen years of living thought he’d be in this situation, but well. Here he is, enjoying himself no less. Sometimes Hwiyoung really hates his prefrontal cortex.

It’s really hot in here, he thinks distantly, as he’s pushed back against the wall in their changing room at the music station. It’s a small, enclosed area and Hwiyoung can feel the tension buzzing in the air, can very clearly hear his own soft sigh when Taeyang digs his fingers into Hwiyoung’s hips.

“They’re gonna know we’re in here,” Hwiyoung mumbles, but he swallows his half-hearted protests when Taeyang leans in and slides their mouths together.

Kissing Taeyang is fun. It makes Hwiyoung’s toes tingle and makes his skin flush, the air rushing out from his lungs like he’s been tasered. It’s very difficult to even remember to think of anything else when Taeyang’s there, lips burning against Hwiyoung’s own and body so tangibly warm.

Taeyang breaks away after a period of time that Hwiyoung can’t even think to keep track of (he really should, they have to leave for the van soon), and the younger briefly wonders if that’s it for today, but then Taeyang’s lips are trailing down his jawline and _oh_ , latching onto Hwiyoung’s neck.

He’s very careful not to use teeth, not to suck hard enough to leave a bruise, because they’ve still got a fansign next and neither of them want to be on the receiving end of the coordi’s wrath. Taeyang just lays kisses across Hwiyoung’s skin, peppering his collarbone, and for some godforsaken uncontrollable reason Hwiyoung lets out an embarrassing little _whimper._

Taeyang pauses, and then brings his mouth up to Hwiyoung’s ear, breath ghosting along his face. It sends a shiver down Hwiyoung’s spine, his body anticipatory and maybe a little nervous.

“Cute,” Taeyang’s voice is low, not quite the deep tenor that Juho has but still husky enough to make goosebumps scatter across Hwiyoung’s skin. He holds his breath, but that seems to be all Taeyang has to say for now.

A moment later, the changing room door is sliding open and Taeyang is walking out calmly, his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans. Hwiyoung is left behind, wide-eyed and roughly the color of a ripe tomato.

It doesn’t help when Sanghyuk notices them and chuckles, which of course captures the attention of several other members lounging in the waiting area outside the changing room.

“You two done already?” Sanghyuk teases, and Hwiyoung wants to crumple onto the floor and bury his face in his hands, but he’s got painstakingly detailed makeup on and he’s not about to ruin the artists’ hard work.

Naturally, Taeyang just shrugs it off and smiles, cool and composed. Like always.

* * *

Taeyang is quiet, most of the time, but he’s not exactly a silent brooding type. It’s more like he prefers to observe others and join in when he wants to, which in retrospect is likely out of self-preservation because who can really keep up with Sanghyuk and Inseong and Jaeyoon all the time?

But other times, Taeyang is effervescent. He’s got the best smile in the entire world, and Hwiyoung thinks he falls in love with it every time he sees it. (Falls in love with _it_. The smile, not Taeyang, of course.)

And Taeyang will laugh at something funny the hyungs did, or help tease Youngbin and bully Inseong, or flirt obnoxiously and call everyone _cute._

Cute is a word Taeyang likes to use a lot.

Hwiyoung himself doesn’t really think he deserves it, the nuances and layers of meaning hidden within the single noun. He’s not cute, he’s _not_. Hwiyoung was saved from having to be the token adorable maknae by Chanhee, and even though he sometimes plays along with the cute act to get his way, he doesn’t want to be defined by it.

Hwiyoung is not cute. He doesn’t want to be cute, at least not to Taeyang. He wants to be… attractive, in a way that would make his hyung notice him as something more than his sweet dongsaeng. He wants to be pretty enough to make Taeyang want him.

And yet. Taeyang calls him cute.

Frustrated, Hwiyoung throws open the door of his shared room with Chanhee and stalks down the hallway. He gets to the kitchen to find Seokwoo and Juho there, sharing a bowl of noodles with one pair of chopsticks in what is probably the most grossly domestic scene Hwiyoung has ever seen them in.

He tries not to glare at the taunt that the universe has so clearly tossed his way, and instead jerks the fridge open to grab the milk. Hwiyoung drinks it all straight from the carton out of pure need to quell the ugly emotions bubbling in his gut, then crumples up the empty carton and throws it in the trash with more force than is terribly necessary.

When Hwiyoung turns around, both Seokwoo and Juho are fixing him with scarily identical knowing looks.

“What an angsty teenager thing to do,” Seokwoo notes, lifting a brow curiously.

“Trouble in paradise?” Juho asks, sounding amused.

“What paradise?” Hwiyoung crosses his arms, still feeling a bit miffed. The milk had helped though, done wonders for his raging thoughts and grumbling stomach.

“The one you inhabit 75% of the time and allow nobody else but Taeyang into,” Seokwoo answers for Juho, and Hwiyoung wants to throw all his milk back up because they’re just so _married_ and it’s disgusting but also romantic and Hwiyoung maybe sorta wants that too—

“Don’t be ridiculous, hyung,” he says out loud, and turns to walk out of the kitchen.

And runs right into Taeyang, of course, because fate has to have it out for him today.

“Hey,” Taeyang smiles down at him (and oh how Hwiyoung hates that he’s still a couple centimeters shorter than Taeyang, but it’s alright, he’s got two more years that the older doesn’t). “You okay?”

Hwiyoung resolutely ignores the soft snickering that comes from Seokwoo and Juho behind him, and looks up to meet Taeyang’s eyes. “Yes.”

And then, because Hwiyoung apparently has to choose today to be a defiant little shit to the painful potholes of his fucking feelings, he grabs Taeyang around the neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

The laughing from the kitchen stops abruptly, and Hwiyoung relishes in it.

He doesn’t give a stunned Taeyang time to react, and instead breaks away after four and a half seconds to sprint down the hall and into the relative safety of his own room.

He doesn’t slam the door behind him, though, because he’s suddenly feeling much less exasperated than before, and it may or may not have something to do with the adorably confused and surprised look on Taeyang’s face when Hwiyoung kissed _him_ for once.

* * *

Taeyang dancing is a sight to behold, in and of itself, and Hwiyoung can’t look away. It’s undeniably breathtaking, the way he moves fluidly like he doesn’t even have bones or something. It’s also, in a more crass way, totally sexy, and Hwiyoung thinks that this era is definitely the one that’s going to do him in.

He’s been getting distracted as practice wears on, but he swears it’s not completely his fault. It’s just that Taeyang is still wearing the jeans from their music show performance earlier, and they’re tight and ripped and make his thighs look so good. Hwiyoung is rather sure he’s salivating.

It serves of no help whatsoever that Taeyang keeps catching his eye in the mirror and giving him this grin, and Hwiyoung can’t tell if it’s meant to be so suggestive and full of hidden meaning and mirth. He can’t tell if he’s supposed to be quite so intoxicated by it.

Hwiyoung finds his eyes flickering to Taeyang in the mirror’s reflection more often than they stay fixated on himself, which turns out to be a hazard because Hwiyoung unfortunately doesn’t see Inseong coming right towards him as they move through the formation. They collide with a symphony of yelps and pained grunts, falling onto the floor in a messy heap.

Youngbin sighs and goes to stop the music.

“Why is it that I’ve ended up on the floor more times during my career as SF9 than the rest of my life combined?” Inseong reflects sadly from where he’s practically sitting on top of Hwiyoung.

“Sorry,” Hwiyoung mutters, closing his eyes because he can’t quite bring himself to look at anyone at the moment.

“It’s alright,” Inseong sighs, and lays his head on Hwiyoung’s chest. They both just stay there, sprawled on the ground in mutual solidarity and limbs too tangled to even consider trying to get up, before Sanghyuk coughs to get their attention.

“Well, if you two are finished, Taeyang looks like he’s about to glare a hole through the floor, so you’d better get up quick,” Sanghyuk’s tone is light and teasing, as he comes over to help them up.

Hwiyoung’s head snaps in Taeyang’s direction as quickly as is humanly possible. The older is bright red in the face, probably because he always exerts himself during practice, but he lifts his gaze from the floor to meet Hwiyoung’s eyes.

The corner of his mouth quirks upward when Inseong has gotten up, and Hwiyoung scrambles upright immediately afterwards, feeling just a little guilty.

“Sorry I messed up. It won’t happen again,” Hwiyoung says to the room at large, but mostly to Taeyang, because he really doesn't want Taeyang to be annoyed at him for making them have to stop.

“It definitely won’t if we take Taeyang hyung out of the room,” Chanhee mutters snarkily, and Hwiyoung sends him a death glare, hoping dearly that looks can suddenly kill.

“I think we should take a break,” Youngbin announces, clearly attempting to dissipate the tension in the room. Why is the tension even there? Hwiyoung wonders.

Still, it’s a welcome break, and the members collapse on the floor immediately with groans of relief. Chanhee crawls over to the water bottle station and starts rolling them around the room till they reach somebody. Taeyang grabs his and then comes over to sit down next to Hwiyoung.

Hwiyoung can’t help how his heart begins to race when Taeyang moves closer to him, until their thighs are touching. There’s a surge of heat from where the contact starts, and Hwiyoung fights the urge to shift even closer.

“You seem distracted,” Taeyang speaks up after a short silence. He tilts his head back and pours water into his mouth, exposing the curve of his throat and the slight bump of his Adam’s apple which makes Hwiyoung feel a little dizzy.

He coughs and tears his eyes away. He’ll have to swear to himself to keep his eyes off Taeyang for the rest of practice, lest he cause another accident. “I’m okay.”

“Really,” Taeyang smiles indulgently, like he doesn’t believe Hwiyoung at all. That kind of makes Hwiyoung’s blood boil, but he still refuses to react. “I just thought you looked a little off. Like you need some help.”

The stress he places on the word ‘help’ forces wild thoughts into Hwiyoung’s head, his imagination spinning with stupid insinuations and double-entendres while the logical part of his brain shuts down from it all.

“I don’t,” his voice comes out a squeak, and Hwiyoung has to clear his throat several times before he makes it back to his normal pitch. “Um. I’m fine, really. I don’t need any help.” He does, he really does, but not with what Taeyang thinks.

“Kay,” Taeyang hums. He glances sideways at Hwiyoung, as if looking for something, and Hwiyoung meets his gaze

And then he’s got a hand under Hwiyoung’s chin, tilting his face upwards and their lips are pressed together.

Hwiyoung yelps, as best as he can with his mouth otherwise occupied, but he shuts his eyes and reciprocates and allows himself to indulge. Taeyang pulls him closer, a hand on his waist, until Hwiyoung is practically in his lap, arms scrambling around Taeyang’s shoulders to steady himself.

Taeyang runs his fingers from Hwiyoung’s chin down his neck and across his shoulder blade, smoothing down his back and stopping right at the small of it. His touch makes Hwiyoung kind of want to spontaneously combust, or touch him back, or just away run out of terror for how much he _feels._

“Excuse me! There are children here!” the voice is Seokwoo’s, and he’s without a doubt already covering Chanhee’s eyes, protecting what innocence he has left.

Hwiyoung is flustered immediately—how could he have forgotten the roomful of prying eyes, seriously—and pushes away from Taeyang in a desperate attempt to separate them. Taeyang doesn’t budge, though, he just holds on tight to Hwiyoung’s waist and refuses to let him go until Hwiyoung frowns and smacks him on the arm.

“Hyung, come on,” he whines, and only then does Taeyang grin and loosen his grip. Hwiyoung stumbles to his feet at lightning speed and all but sprints over to the other side of the room, which is not where his starting position is but he can’t bring himself to care right now.

He hears Youngbin mumble something about not being paid enough for this, as he goes to fiddle with the speakers. Sanghyuk gleefully says, “Wow, Taeyang, jealous much?”

* * *

Hwiyoung loves grocery shopping.

They normally don’t get to go as a group, because nine idols making a huge fuss in the grocery store about what kind of milk to buy would attract too much attention, but twos and threes are fine. To make sure everyone gets a chance, though, they do it by age order.

It’s Hwiyoung’s turn this time, and he gets to pick who he wants to go with him. Sometimes he picks Chanhee, sometimes Juho, and sometimes…

“Ugh, just take him,” Jaeyoon rolls his eyes and shoves Taeyang towards Hwiyoung.

He doesn’t even miss a beat, just casually catches his balance and recalibrates. Damn dancer reflexes.

Hwiyoung is about to protest the decision, made without his input, but he shuts his mouth when he realizes that he would’ve picked Taeyang anyway. _Fine_. He grabs the house keys and the communal funds, heading out with Taeyang following him.

Taeyang hums a tune as they walk down to the grocery store right next to their building. It’s one of the few places they can venture without their manager, which is partially why Hwiyoung likes grocery shopping so much.

“Hyung sent a list,” Taeyang finally says something as they enter the store and grab a trolley. “It’s in the group. Let me check.”

They pick up the items the other members want, including three different flavors of chips because fate decided to play a prank on them and make everyone have differing taste preferences. They work well together, grabbing the stuff quickly and efficiently, dropping them into the cart. Hwiyoung pushes it while Taeyang reads off the list, and it suddenly feels so domiciliary.

Hwiyoung finds himself liking it far too much. He distracts himself from that particular train of thought by all but running towards the ice cream fridge, craving something chocolatey.

Of course it would be Taeyang that stands in his way.

“Don’t get chocolate again, Juho-hyung got that last time,” he whines, not sounding very much at all like the supposed hyung to Hwiyoung that he is.

“Well, what do you want?” Hwiyoung asks, pausing in front of the selection. Everything looks good.

Taeyang purses his lips and thinks for a second. “Strawberry.”

“Ew, that’s gross,” Hwiyoung can’t help the reaction that bursts forth. He really hates strawberry.

“No it’s not!” Taeyang fires back, and five minutes later they’re still bickering about it, stationary in the dairy aisle.

“Hyung, literally no one eats strawberry ice cream except for you,” Hwiyoung points out, exasperated.

Taeyang sticks his tongue out at Hwiyoung, which is both very immature and very much like him. “Youngbin hyung eats it!”

“Yeah, okay, you two. Everybody else eats chocolate,” Hwiyoung will not budge from his position. He won’t. Chocolate is superior and he won’t stand for slander towards it.

Taeyang pauses, and muses aloud, “Hey, do you like vanilla?”

Hwiyoung stops, too. “Yeah. Do you?”

“I do. But I don’t think anyone else does,” there’s a positively diabolical smirk spreading across Taeyang’s face. Hwiyoung can almost read his mind.

“Well, we’re the ones buying groceries…” he trails off, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at the older.

Taeyang laughs. “Vanilla it is.” He looks excited about it, too, flinging open the fridge to grab at the canister. He’s still grinning as he returns to the cart, and he’s just so adorable wearing that smile, so Hwiyoung just—

Grabs him by the neck and kisses him in the middle of an empty 24-hour supermarket.

Taeyang doesn’t seem startled or even mildly confused. He just wraps his arms around Hwiyoung’s waist and pulls him closer. Hwiyoung thinks they really should be more careful, but it’s the dead of the night anyway and he wants this so much.

Hwiyoung can feel Taeyang’s tongue probing at the seam of his lips, but before he can take this further, the opening beats of ‘Fanfare’ ring through the air.

Grumbling, Taeyang extracts himself from the kiss and snatches his phone from his pocket. “What?”

“Where the hell are our groceries?” Hwiyoung hears Sanghyuk whine through the phone. “You better not be making out with Youngkyun in some dark alleyway instead of—”

Taeyang hangs up before Sanghyuk can continue ranting. He gives Hwiyoung a sheepish look, the tips of his ears blushing red. “So. We should go.”

“We should,” Hwiyoung echoes, and together they push the cart (with their vanilla ice cream safely inside) to the counter.

When they get back to the dorm, everyone complains that vanilla is boring and they don’t like it. Hwiyoung almost feels bad, but he catches Taeyang’s eye and the older smiles. Hwiyoung decides he doesn’t care if everyone whines at him for the rest of the week.

* * *

If there’s one thing Hwiyoung doesn’t like, it’s not being in control of his emotions.

He has a reputation to uphold, and he’s known it ever since he was given the moniker ‘Cold City Guy’. It’s all an act, of course, most of the entertainment industry is just a farce and facade rolled into one, but if it’s what the fans want then Hwiyoung has to deliver.

This is one part of his idol personality that Hwiyoung finds does suit him, though. He doesn’t like to let go of the tight rein he has on his feelings, absolutely hates having them run freely and cause chaos like the little monsters they are and end up trampling all over his heart.

Taeyang makes him lose control of his emotions.

It wasn’t always like this, or maybe it was and Hwiyoung just didn’t want to believe it. Taeyang and his maddeningly beautiful smile and face and personality managed to distract Hwiyoung long enough for his emotions to run away from him, and now two years later, Hwiyoung is still trying to catch up.

Hwiyoung’s always been more aware of Taeyang than everyone else, so to speak. If he were to put it into actual tangible words, he’d say he just gravitates towards Taeyang. They’re friends, despite being two years apart, and Hwiyoung is comfortable with him in a different way than he is with Chanhee.

At least, until he does shit like bite his lip and gaze into the mirror with the sultry expression they’ve all practiced and perfected. Then, Hwiyoung feels his heartbeat speeding up and his palms getting sweaty. It isn’t anything like what he’s felt before, and maybe it’s because of this that Hwiyoung tries to disassociate from what he’s feeling, tries to desensitise and anesthethise.

And then Taeyang had to kiss him.

When Taeyang kissed him the first time, it was like fireworks exploding, and Hwiyoung knows that’s a cliche but he can’t think of any other way to describe it. It had been at the dorm, late one night after they’d debuted. They were waiting for the shower together, curled up on the couch like a pair of super attached koalas.

Hwiyoung was exhausted, yawning every other minute, and Taeyang had been no better. He leaned his head on Hwiyoung’s shoulder, stifling his groans of pain with his palm when he jostled a sore muscle.

“Youngkyun,” Taeyang murmured sleepily, and Hwiyoung was too tired to correct him on the use of his real name.

“Mm?” he made a sound of acknowledgement instead. When he turned his head, Taeyang was staring at him with a thoughtful look on his face, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

Hwiyoung had been about to ask what’s wrong, but Taeyang spoke up first. “Can I kiss you?”

It seemed like Hwiyoung’s entire world had tilted on its axis. He found himself incapable of forming coherent sentences, and just sat there sputtering vowels and consonants which came together to mean nothing, face burning up as Taeyang continued to look at him inquisitively.

Finally Hwiyoung gave up on words and nodded once but firmly, because yeah he fucking wanted Taeyang to kiss him. The older boy beamed, and didn’t say anything else as he leaned in.

Hwiyoung was hyper aware of everything about Taeyang in that moment, from the sweat gleaming on his skin to the curve of his nose, every strand of his dyed blonde hair coming into focus. Taeyang paused at the very last minute, his nose brushing against Hwiyoung’s, like he was giving him a chance to back out.

Hwiyoung closed the distance and molded their mouths together.

The first time was messy and sloppy, the two of them too tired from dance practice to focus on the intricacies of technique, but it felt perfect. Taeyang's touch burned at the contact points between their bodies, and Hwiyoung found himself craving more, wanting to push Taeyang down on the couch. Hwiyoung carded his fingers through Taeyang’s hair and wished they could stay like this forever.

Destiny obviously didn’t plan for that, though, because after what felt like only a couple of seconds, a voice yelled for Taeyang down the hallway.

Taeyang separated himself from Hwiyoung, but he made no move to get up. He was still smiling, and Hwiyoung swears there’s like a sparkle in his eye or something.

“Yoo Taeyang!”

Taeyang really did grimace at that, and he carefully untangled himself from Hwiyoung so he could push himself off the couch. He leaves the living room with a backward glance at Hwiyoung.

Hwiyoung buried his face in a cushion and shrieked.

* * *

Two years later, and Hwiyoung is very familiar with the landscape of Taeyang’s mouth. He spends every other night curled up in Taeyang’s bed. Sometimes they tangle their legs together and kiss for hours, cold hands slipping under sweatshirts and heavy breathing all too obvious in the quiet of the room.

Sometimes Taeyang will lay Hwiyoung down and map his body with his mouth, pressing butterfly kisses from his neck to his navel. He always makes sure to leave marks where no one can see them.

Sometimes Hwiyoung will straddle Taeyang and run his fingers everywhere, sliding down the curve of his face, skimming across his collarbone and the lightly defined muscles of his abdomen. And sometimes Taeyang makes Hwiyoung stop, gently nudging him off and excusing himself to the bathroom.

Hwiyoung wants to scream in frustration.

They’re not together, not in the way that Seokwoo and Juho are, with their affectionate pet names and gross domesticity. They have never been on a date, have never talked about their relationship. They’re just really good friends who kiss a lot.

And Hwiyoung is so, so unsatisfied with that.

He’s known, maybe since day one, that he wants Taeyang in ways that aren’t just physical. He wants Taeyang to look at him with the same affection in his eyes that Inseong has when he looks at Jaeyoon. Hwiyoung wants to share a bowl of noodles with one pair of chopsticks with Taeyang, wants him to wrap an arm around his shoulders when it’s cold out, hell, he wants to hold Taeyang’s hand.

But Taeyang doesn’t want that, and Hwiyoung can’t make himself upset the delicate balance they have, because he likes it just fine where they are now too, and losing this would be worse.

It’s not something that he can really share with the world, anyway. Most of the other members think they’re already dating, anyway, although Hwiyoung does catch the occasional concerned glance from Inseong’s end. The only one who knows, in full detail, about Hwiyoung’s problem is Chanhee.

And his advice sucks.

“Oh my god, I told you to just tell him,” Chanhee throws a pillow at Hwiyoung from across their shared room. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“He’ll hate me,” Hwiyoung whines, catching the pillow and pressing his face into it. “What do I do?”

“ _I_ hate you,” Chanhee proclaims, and that’s about the extent of their conversation about Taeyang.

* * *

Hwiyoung wets his lips and thinks, he _really_ has to stop getting himself into these situations.

Although, he’ll concede that this time it’s partially his fault. Mostly his fault, actually. But also Taeyang’s. For looking so damn good in skinny jeans and a tight shirt, his flowing overshirt they wear for O Sole Mio promotions discarded back in the waiting room.

Hwiyoung sighs. Okay, it’s completely his fault.

“Okay?” Taeyang asks against Hwiyoung’s mouth. They’ve somehow found an empty waiting room with a nice couch to make out in, and it reminds Hwiyoung of his school days, spent sneaking around and tiptoeing to make sure they didn’t get caught.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, then tangles his fingers in Taeyang’s hair and pulls him down, closer. Taeyang laughs quietly, and then rearranges himself so that he’s not threatening to fall onto Hwiyoung as the younger lays on his back.

Hwiyoung doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing Taeyang. It’s a timeless luxury, the jolt in his stomach when their lips touch for the first time never getting old. It’s probably not something he’ll get to do forever, though, and at the thought Hwiyoung sighs again.

“What are you thinking of?” Taeyang pulls away to rest his forehead against Hwiyoung’s, his words tickling Hwiyoung’s skin.

It takes Hwiyoung a while to realize how far off he’s drifted into his thoughts, and by that time it’s too late.

“Hyung, I like you.” The words form on his tongue and spill from his lips before his brain can catch up enough to yell “stop it!”.

Taeyang freezes, and Hwiyoung thinks he’s fucked up. “I mean—”

But then Taeyang is pressing down again and he’s licking into Hwiyoung’s mouth and it’s _nice_ so Hwiyoung whines and arches up, wrapping his legs around Taeyang’s waist.

The effect it has on Taeyang is startling. He breaks the kiss and instead buries his face into the hollow of Hwiyoung’s neck, breathing deeply.

When he finally says something, his voice has gone tight and strained, deeper than usual. “Hwi. Don’t do that.”

“Why?” Hwiyoung lets a pout seep into his voice. “You don’t—you don’t like me too?” The possibility crosses his mind before he can stop it, and suddenly Hwiyoung feels so aware of everything that’s happening. He’d thought… since Taeyang kept kissing him and hadn’t ran for the hills...

“That’s not it,” the inflection in Taeyang’s voice is more soothing now, meant to calm, “I like you so much, Hwi. You just… you don’t know what you do to me.”

Hwiyoung can hear the blood pounding in his ears.

“And we can’t—you know, the hyungs would kill me if I—” Taeyang gives up on the words in favour of giving Hwiyoung a wry smile. “You’re still like a cute little kid to them.”

“To you?” Hwiyoung asks curiously, because he just has to know.

Taeyang throws his head back and laughs, the melodic sound echoing around the empty room. “No way. I’d feel weird thinking about you the way I do.”

_What way does Taeyang think about him?_

Taeyang must see the question in Hwiyoung’s eyes, because he sighs and rubs at his eyes. “The sounds you make. The little whines and the whimpers. Sometimes they’re cute in an innocent way and sometimes they’re really not,” Taeyang confesses, his face coloring a dusty pink shade.

It’s nothing short of exhilarating, finding out so much in such a short amount of time. Hwiyoung kind of wants to know more, especially since he’s finally got Taeyang like this, but he also wants to keep kissing Taeyang. It’s a tough dilemma.

“But… kissing?” Hwiyoung ventures cautiously, testing the boundaries and Taeyang's limitations. “Like this?” he rolls his hips upwards once, and watches Taeyang’s mouth fall open. Hwiyoung smirks a little at that, and Taeyang catches it.

“Okay, you’re just being a tease,” he grumbles, but there’s not a trace of annoyance in his voice. “But yes. Kissing. Maybe like that. But if I have to push you off and go to the bathroom, you know why.”

Hwiyoung giggles, feeling light-headed. “Sure, hyung.”

Taeyang smiles at him, and leans down to kiss him again.

* * *

Chanhee casually asks if Taeyang and Hwiyoung are dating yet. Hwiyoung chokes on his banana milk.

“You can’t be serious!” Chanhee thunders as he pats Hwiyoung on the back, none too gently either. “Then what is going on with the lovey-dovey looks and feeding each other and all the kissing?”

He says ‘kissing’ like it’s a curse word, and Hwiyoung supposes it might be, for him.

It’s incredibly obvious that Hwiyoung and Taeyang are becoming more openly affectionate. (“Ew,” Sanghyuk wrinkles his nose, “As if they weren’t bad enough before.”) In the mornings, when they’re all waiting in the parking lot for the van to pull in, Taeyang will sidle over and kiss Hwiyoung good morning. When they end up sitting next to each other, Hwiyoung will grab Taeyang’s hand and lace their fingers together.

(All that time he spent daydreaming of holding Taeyang’s hand… definitely worth the hype.)

But they haven’t properly cemented their relationship yet. Hwiyoung knows he likes Taeyang, and knows Taeyang likes him. That’s enough for him at this point, but it seems Chanhee thinks otherwise from the way he’s glowering.

“Look,” Chanhee sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s none of my business, I know. But you two are already acting like boyfriends, so why don’t you just call it that? Nothing’s gonna change.”

Hwiyoung considers it.

He asks Taeyang about it later that night, in between gasping into Taeyang’s mouth as his hand slides under Hwiyoung’s shirt and insistently sticking his tongue down Taeyang’s throat.

“Hey, hyung,” Hwiyoung mutters, lying on his side in Taeyang’s bed. The older has one hand on Hwiyoung’s bare hip, thumb drawing slow circles in the skin. It’s distracting.

“Yeah, Hwi?” It’s too dark to actually see Taeyang, but Hwiyoung can tell he’s paying attention.

“Are you my boyfriend now?” Hwiyoung asks, and hates that Taeyang chuckles at it. He pouts, even though Taeyang can’t see, and whines, “Hyung!”

“Sorry, baby. I am if you want me to be,” Taeyang throws out carelessly, and Hwiyoung’s brain about short-circuits trying to understand that.

Firstly, Taeyang called him baby. And it’s nice. Hwiyoung likes it.

Secondly, Taeyang is not opposed to the idea of being Hwiyoung’s boyfriend.

There is no third point because Hwiyoung is freaking out too much to think about it. He forces himself to take deep, steadying breaths and calm down.

“I can hear you over thinking,” Taeyang’s hand comes up and a soft thumb runs across Hwiyoung’s cheek. “It’s fine, you know. We don’t have to decide anything right now. We have a lot of time.”

Hwiyoung’s heart jumps in his chest at the notion that Taeyang thinks they have time together. Like he wants to do keep doing this for a while.

“Okay,” Hwiyoung says, closing his eyes. There’s a smile on his face.

“Okay?” Taeyang echoes, not taking his hand away from Hwiyoung’s cheek. The younger curls into the touch, craving it.

“I want you to be my boyfriend,” Hwiyoung’s voice comes out as a whisper, like he’s afraid of saying it out loud, of making it something real and palpable.

Taeyang hums softly. “Then I am.”

* * *

Chanhee’s right. Nothing changes after Hwiyoung suddenly declares Taeyang his boyfriend.

He’s suddenly filled with excitement about it, and he’s full of boundless energy the next morning. Hwiyoung skips into the living room where the other members are gathering, some with breakfast in hand, with a bright smile on his face and Taeyang trailing after him looking amused.

“Good morning!” Hwiyoung greets cheerfully. Seokwoo, who is sitting closest to him, peers at him.

“Why are you so happy?” he asks with suspicion coating his voice. It doesn’t seem like he means to, but his gaze drifts over to Taeyang.

Taeyang puts both hands up in defense. “I didn’t do anything, hyung! That you guys repeatedly told me not to, anyway. Jeez.”

“What did you tell him not to do?” Hwiyoung cuts in, intrigued.

Seokwoo’s face turns into an angelic, innocuous smile. “Things that you don’t need to know. And that Taeyang better not introduce you to yet.” He sends another look Taeyang’s way, then goes back to stealing Juho’s cereal.

“So why are you so happy?” Youngbin asks, coming in from the kitchen. He looks especially like a mom like this, with boxes of leftovers from last night’s dinner stacked in his arms for snacks later if they get hungry before lunch.

“Me and Taeyang hyung are dating now!” Hwiyoung announces, expecting somebody to at least gasp in surprise. He looks around, and finds that things are going on as usual. Taeyang stifles a snicker.

“Oh, are we supposed to act surprised?” Sanghyuk deadpans, words dripping with sarcasm. “Oh my goddddd.”

“They’re dating _now_ , he says,” Juho shakes his head in disappointment.

“You two have been dating for three years,” Jaeyoon pipes up from inside the kitchen.

“It was only a little sickening to watch,” Chanhee says, which earns him a kick in the side from Inseong.

“Don’t be mean, they’re so happy now, look,” Inseong scolds Chanhee, who shrugs.

Horrified, Hwiyoung turns to Taeyang. “Did you know about this?”

Taeyang only smiles mysteriously, “Maybe.” He slips into the kitchen without another word.

**Author's Note:**

> [requests](http://www.curiouscat.me/cherrycity)


End file.
